Southern Comfort
by BethBrokes
Summary: After a case goes horribly wrong and Gibbs fails to save a young child's life, Kate is charged with making sure he gets home safe. Potentially upsetting themes at the start. Set sometime between Enigma and Twilight, but no spoilers.


**Pairing:** Kate Todd/Gibbs

**Rating:** T (with potentially upsetting themes at the start)

**Genres: **Hurt/Comfort, Romance

**Summary:** After a case goes horribly wrong and Gibbs fails to save a young child's life, Kate is charged with making sure he gets home safe. Set sometime between Enigma and Twilight, but no spoilers.

**A/N:** Based on the idea/headcanon that it would take a helluva lot to make Gibbs forget rule #12 and act on his feelings for Kate. Hence child murder. Sorry about that. I swear it's only mentioned briefly. Beta'd by the lovely Eisette, who is actually a damn good writer (much better than me) so you should go check her out. Enjoy!

* * *

It had been one of the bad days.

A disgraced ex-marine had set out to get revenge on his former superior by picking off her family. He'd started with the eldest son, a petty officer stationed at Norfolk. Next, the already shell-shocked officer had been unable to get in touch with her daughter, studying at Stanford. By the time Ducky had compared her autopsy report to his own findings and found them practically identical, the husband was bleeding out on the floor of his own kitchen. The youngest child, just five years old, had been taken to an abandoned warehouse, painfully close to NCIS headquarters, and starred in a seemingly-live video countdown sent to NCIS – and his hysterical former CO – using encryption so advanced that it had made McGee sweat. Meanwhile, the others discovered the killer's identity and put out a BOLO on his vehicle. McGee and Abby broke the encryption almost exactly as the vehicle was spotted.

They arrived to see that the countdown hadn't actually been a live feed - but a recording, an hour behind. The killer's body was also found, gun in mouth, but Gibbs barely seemed to notice. Granted, it was hard for anyone to focus on that when faced with the sight of a hardened naval officer breaking down into unintelligible screams before running to cradle the cold body of her youngest son.

Tony was a wonder, directing and sympathising and arranging support, but it was Gibbs who held her tight as she sobbed violently into his shoulder after the techs removed the bodies, bloodstains transferring to yet another now-ruined white shirt.

And it was Gibbs who'd stood staring at the stained concrete, long after most people had gone, such a vacant, sorrowful expression on his face that anyone could have read the regret in his mind. Regret and anger and something else. Something deeper.

Tony, still effectively in charge, was the one who suggested Kate take Gibbs home.

"Just... make sure he's okay. Okay?"

She'd shot him a withering look. "Tony, he's _not _okay. A little boy died today because we couldn't stop it. Are _you _okay?"

He'd frowned, turning sharply to her, mouth set in a growl until he caught her eyes. Even she knew her eyes were full of clearly-legible pain. Tony stared for a moment, before slipping into a low, calm voice.

"No. None of us are. But Gibbs... Gibbs least of all, Kate." He'd glanced for a second at their boss standing silent and still and just... staring. She'd shifted her balance from one leg to the other awkwardly, unsure how to apologise, and nodded in acquiescence.

"I'll go get my car."

The journey was spent in complete silence. Except for one point, when Kate attempted to break the awful void by switching on the radio. No sooner had her hand left the dial, Gibbs' was there to turn it off. After that she just focused on the road as it slowly began to glow with the fading light of dusk.

It was fully dark by the time they reached Gibbs' house, but he made no attempt to turn the lights in his hall on when he went inside. He didn't shut the door behind him.

Cautiously, Kate stepped over the threshold to follow him. Had he intended her to? Well, he'd left the door open – and she _was_ supposed to make sure he was okay. She'd only be going home to lie awake all night, curled up and tormented by today's images, anyway, so she kind of appreciated the delay. And, yes, okay, she was a little curious as to what Gibbs' house was like.

The door clicked shut behind her, and she made her way to follow Gibbs down the hall, taking in as much detail as she could once her eyes adjusted to the dark. Tony had called it 'Spartan'; Kate was inclined to agree. Turning her head from squinting at one of the few photos adorning the walls, she saw he'd stopped in a doorway a metre or so ahead, hand on the frame, leaning into the hallway to watch her.

"See something interesting, Agent Todd?" he drawled. There was no amusement in his voice, although no hint of menace either. She drew closer, eyes firmly on him and not on the open door – to what? His kitchen? His bedroom? - a little further down the hall.

"No, Gibbs. Uh, sorry." He flicked his hand, dismissing her apology. As he did so, he shifted so that his body was no longer blocking the doorway – still leaning on one side of the frame, eyeing her with his classic inscrutable gaze, but allowing her to draw closer to see the wooden bones of his current boat, softly lit in yellow. He'd turned the lights in there on, at least.

"Coming down, Kate?" He turned away to go down the steps into the basement, before calling up from about midway-down, "I'm sure DiNozzo'd want you to keep an eye on me for a while." _There_ was the familiar amusement.

Only a trace, though. Not enough to be accompanied by one of his quiet, subtle smiles – but a good sign, nonetheless.

"Sure, why not?" Her tone was light, but the levity was, at least a little, forced. At the mention of Tony, she recalled why she was here in the first place. The blood, and danger, and bodies – one so small it broke her heart just to think of it – and the way Gibbs had stood, and stared, and been so far away… he might have been looking at something completely different, he was so removed from the scene.

Gibbs had already retrieved the bourbon when she reached the foot of the stairs, his back to her as he poured a measure into a single glass. Carefully approaching the workbench, she watched him down it before turning to her.

"Drink?" He set about pouring another one, keeping an eye on her to watch for her response.

"Uh, sure. Just one, before I go home." She looked around for another glass, not really aware of how she was nervously twisting her hands. Instead, he offered her the drink he'd just poured.

"Oh!" Her hands sprung apart, palms out reflexively and fingers outstretched as she shook her head slightly. "Oh, no. You have it. If there's just one glass. I don't mind. Really." She nodded to emphasis the point, wishing she could have sounded a bit less... jumpy. Gibbs raised his eyebrows, studying her carefully for a second before tilting the glass from side to side so the amber liquid sloshed up to the edges enticingly.

"Go on. I don't mind sharing." She smiled, nervous. "_Really_." The last word was emphasised with that classic Gibbs assurance as he tipped it towards her, and she found herself taking the glass from him. A little surprised by the slight smile that was forming on his lips, she took a deep sip. She smiled, lips clamped together as she swallowed, and he chuckled, evidently at her expression. Raising an eyebrow, she finished the glass.

"Not bad, Gibbs." The corners of his lips curled up in amusement.

"Do you usually drink Bourbon, Kate?" His head tilted ever-so-slightly, like he was judging something, and she found herself wanting to surprise him.

"No." She paused. "I prefer Scotch."

He chuckled, taking the glass from her to refill it for himself and take a swig. Kate watched him, studying the way he shifted the liquid in the glass with the slightest flick of his wrists born from years of practice and how his grip was relaxed but firm around the tapered base, not realising she had been staring until her eyes flicked away, upwards, to meet the blue of his. A heavy silence settled between them when she found herself holding his gaze, studying the flecks of lighter blue in his irises. She didn't fail to notice the slight dilation of his pupils as they scrutinised her in return – when suddenly he shifted a little, breaking the eye contact to set the bottle down on the table behind him.  
The thud of the thick glass against solid wood was enough to cause Kate to blink out of her reverie, glancing down at the source of the sound. When she cautiously lifted her gaze back up to his face, he had the trace of a smile on his face; the corners of his mouth twitched upwards and his eyes slightly narrowed, now more openly regarding her with the same inquisitive look they'd had before – for just a second, before he too glanced away to look at his glass. Kate looked down too, unsure of what she could say or do to diffuse whatever kind of tension this was between them… and unsure if she wanted to.

She felt his eyes on her once more, and met them. The blue-grey gaze narrowed for a fraction of a second, before he turned away completely. Kate blinked, a little confused at his sudden shattering of the moment. But she was being ridiculous – there was no moment, was there? She had thought Gibbs could feel how the air was charged between them, but…

"I- I can go, if you want. I should probably go." She said quickly, answering her own question in a slightly nervous tone and turning as well to take a step towards the stairs.

Gibbs stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.  
Kate turned her head, focusing on the strong hand now loosely resting on her shoulder rather than on his face. She didn't know what she'd see if she looked up at him – wasn't sure if she wanted to find out. Was he annoyed for some reason? Had she broken one of his many rules by mistake? Or was it something else? Something to do with the way he teased her occasionally - not like how he messed with Tony or kept McGee on the edge of his seat, but almost _flirtily_?

Was it related to the weird tension between them since the moment she'd entered his basement?

His hand slipped off her shoulder, softly brushing down her shoulder blade slightly as he pulled away. Releasing a breath she hadn't realised she was holding, Kate turned around again.

"Kate?" At the sound of his voice, she raised her eyes to meet his. He was wearing that smile of his, the one where he looked genuinely amused - lips a little parted and eyes dancing. "I was only pouring you another drink, Kate."

"Oh." Her eyes fell on the glass in his left hand, once more full of golden bourbon. "Gibbs, I don't think that's such a good idea. I have to drive home. I should go now-"

"Kate, will you just... stay and have a drink with me?" Suddenly he sounded exasperated, a hint of either sorrow or annoyance (or both) tingeing his husky voice.

She tilted her head, again trying to study his face, but now it was a blank mask, waiting on her answer. When she spoke, it was slowly and carefully, watching for any change in his expression. "Are you okay, Gibbs?"

He arched an eyebrow in disbelief, lips setting firmly together for a moment before he spoke - calmly at first, then more harshly, more _pained_.

"A kid died today because _I _couldn't stop some bastard with a grudge, Kate. Do you _think_ I'm okay?" As he all but snapped the last, his eyes met Kate's once more; she could clearly see the distress, usually so well hidden, evident in his gaze.

The glass in his hand was shaking slightly as she took it from him, not breaking eye contact. His anguish was written on his face as much as in his eyes now, and Kate had never seen anyone look so... broken. She took a deep breath.

"Gibbs, I don't know... I'm not sure how to help you." Her tone was frank, hardly betraying the terrible wave of sympathy – hell, empathy; she knew how he felt – that was engulfing her. His face closed up, unreadable once more; she was instantly wishing she could take the words back when he nodded, and looked away.

"I know, Kate." He replied simply, before glancing at the Bourbon in her hand. "You gonna drink that?"

Reassured, she drank a little before offering it to him with a slight smile. "Want the rest?"

He wrapped his fingers round the glass, the tips brushing her wrist gently - and then brought his other hand up to cover hers. "Don't you?"

She shook her head numbly. They had somehow gotten closer over the last few minutes, and his face was less than a foot away from hers. "I, uh... I have to get home. I shouldn't..."

"If that's all you're worried about, Kate..." his hands were still clasped over hers, wrapped as it was around the bourbon; the warmth in his callused palm, contrasting so sharply with the coolness of the glass, was making it hard to focus. Kate thought she could smell the whiskey on his breath, too, as he leant in a little and lowered his voice. "Then, hell, you can stay here tonight."

"Here?" The surprise of him seemingly propositioning her outright dashed her out of her Gibbs-and-whiskey-fuelled haze. "Gibbs, you don't mean..."

He laughed. Only a little, and not very loudly, but still.

"I have a guest bedroom, Kate." He withdrew his hands, taking the glass of bourbon with him in his left, and drank some.

"Oh. Right."

The corners of his mouth twitched up at her tone. "Why? You have a better idea?"

She laughed at his words, her amusement banishing a silence that could have quickly grown awkward. "No, it just, uh, sounded like something Tony would say. Just for a second there."

"Rule 12, Kate: never date a co-worker." The blue eyes bore into hers.

Embarrassed, she took a step backwards, cheeks reddening.

"I know, Gibbs, I wasn't suggesting -"

"More of a guideline, really." He interjected, so quietly Kate thought it was more to himself than to her – but she didn't reply, just standing with her lips a little parted in surprise. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? Or was she just going crazy? It _had _been a hell of a day…

"Kate," his head was a little tilted in consideration as he appeared to decide how best to phrase his next words – or maybe whether or not he should say them at all. "Would you _like _to stay the night?"

"In the guest bedroom, or...?" Through the mild confusion and the effect of prolonged exposure to Gibbs' eyes, she noted that she sounded more confident than she felt. And that he was smiling.

"Sure."

She raised an eyebrow, mild aggravation warring with amusement. Gibbs seemed determined not to make anything clearer for her.

"Do you want me to?"

He sighed and looked away for a second, inhaling deeply. Suddenly turning back and taking a step towards her, Gibbs reduced the distance between them to almost nothing. His free hand took hold of her arm gently, resting there.

"I _need_ you to stay tonight, Kate. Please." His gaze dropped to her lips a second, and she licked them without realising as she focused on him.

God knows she'd never been able to resist when he said 'please'.

"Okay." She agreed, her voice a soft whisper..

He leant in, completely closing the gap between them; her eyes shut of their own volition as she felt his lips meet hers - desperately and almost possessively at first, and then with less urgency. The kiss became more gentle as they both relaxed into it.

The sound of the glass being roughly placed on the nearest beam precluded Gibbs' left hand finding her waist, while the fingers of his right lightly gripped her arm. Kate's arms slipped up around his neck, pulling him in even closer for a second, before she pulled away and broke the kiss. For once, Gibbs looked genuinely puzzled, and Kate all but smirked as she spoke.

"Not the guest bedroom, then." She said in a low voice.

Neither of them had nightmares that night.


End file.
